


Love Poetry

by Iverna



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Camelot, Captain Swan - Freeform, Gen, ouat AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 07:12:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iverna/pseuds/Iverna
Summary: A silly little Camelot snippet. David and Killian (try to) write love poetry.





	Love Poetry

“What rhymes with “emerald”?”

David is sitting back in an ornate arm chair that Killian has been trying hard not to see as a throne. A piece of parchment is supported by a book on his lap, and he’s scowling as his quill hovers over the page. Other Camelot nobles are scattered around the room, talking quietly, flirting in that oddly restrained way, reading, or playing games.

Emma looks up from the game of chess she’s losing–badly–to her mother. “Nothing rhymes with emerald. What the hell are you writing?”

David huffs out an annoyed sigh. It’s a courtly tradition, writing love poetry, and Killian is finding out–to his delight–that Prince Charming is very, very bad at it.

“Ephemeral,” he suggests.

David glowers at him. “What does that mean?”

“Fleeting,” Killian says.

“Well, that’s the opposite of what I need.”

“Enamelled,” Killian counters, unperturbed by David’s annoyance. “Imperilled. Disembowelled.”

“Seriously,” Emma says, “did you eat the dictionary?”

He looks over at her. She’s sitting in the window seat, legs pulled up, the chess board on a little table next to her. Snow is leaning back in another chair, her feet up, looking amused.

“I did not eat the dictionary,” he says, “but it explains a lot that you think that’s how one learns words.”

“I’ve got a word for you,” Emma says. “Jerk.”

He grins. “Enamoured.”

He has the pleasure of seeing her cheeks turn a little rosy even as she makes a face at him.

“All right, all right,” David grumbles, gesturing at him with the quill. “How about you get back to work?”

Killian gives him an innocent look. “I’m finished.”

David looks outraged. “What?”

Killian holds up his own parchment, bearing the fruits of his labour. Emma, he notices, is careful not to look at him. He knows how she feels about courtly love–in a word, embarrassed. He also knows how she’d feel if he actually wrote a poem that follows all of the rules, elaborating on all the things he admires about her. Not that he ever planned on doing so; he may be willing to follow tradition, but a noble knight, he is not. “Finished. I can help with yours, if you like. My dear, I’m not a poet, and you and I both know it…”

Snow laughs. Emma snorts. David looks like he wants to glare, but the smile that’s tugging at his mouth is rather ruining the effect.

“If it’s any comfort, mate,” Killian adds, “think of how Robin will fare with this, once he deigns to show up.”

David heaves a sigh. “I wish. Regina put her foot down. No poetry.”

“Wait, we can do that?” Emma asks. “No one told me that!”

“Ah, ah!” Killian points the parchment at her. “I refuse to fall short of the chivalric ideals, love. A lady at court is to have poems from her admirer, therefore, you are getting a bloody poem.”

Emma glares at him. “Please don’t ever call yourself that again. And I’m not a lady.”

“You are,” he says, getting to his feet and holding out the poem. “Here you are, love. Does it pass muster?”

Emma’s eyebrows rise. “You’re not reading it out?”

“I can just about guess how that would make you feel, so no, I shan’t be reading it out.”

She takes it, looking cautiously relieved. He knows she’s nervous; she isn’t comfortable at court, not having been raised at one. Truth be told, he isn’t all that fond of the place either, but he’s always been good at adapting to his surroundings.

“You don’t have to read it now, you know,” Snow says. “It’s okay to keep it… well. Secret.” She smirks. “Which I think I’d better do with your father’s, if he ever gets it done.”

“Hey,” David protests.

Emma chuckles, but she shakes her head. Then she looks down and begins reading, with the air of one getting the worst over with. But her expression changes as she reads; her eyes lighten, then her mouth quirks, and then she laughs, a bright, surprised sound. She looks back at him, and he can see the relief in her eyes, behind the humour. He winks at her. He might not be a noble knight, and she’s not good at being a lady, but they’re getting pretty good at navigating the court.

Together.

He knows she’s thinking the same from the way she’s smiling when she shakes her head and looks down to read the poem again.

_I thought you lovely as can be_

_Your beauty set my heart ablaze_

_But then you tied me to a tree_

_Left me in chains and parted ways_

_And so I quickly came to see_

_Through fights and so many delays_

_That you’re the only lass for me_

_(And I quite like the chains, these days)_


End file.
